Locals can only roll their eyes as they watch HBO’s hit series “Big Little Lies” showing Monterey moms taking leisurely, traffic-free trips across Bixby Bridge on their way to pick up kids from school (or perhaps bury a body in the woods).

We all know that a drive across that famed bridge into Big Sur brings more than breathtaking beauty. These days we must also suffer traffic snarls, selfie-snappers, trespassers and general idiocy.

The problem is so pervasive that the local group “Take Back Big Sur” recently hung a banner from that famed bridge that read: “OVERTOURISM IS KILLING BIG SUR.”
It’s with all this in mind that I write about the expanding restaurant scene in Big Sur, a precious and vulnerable swath of land that’s home to only 1,500 hardy souls.

Is this exploding food culture an unsustainable assault on a region at a tipping point? Perhaps it’s a chicken-egg thing. Is it “if you feed them they will come” or more “if they come you need to feed them?” Depends on one’s perspective.

One thing is certain: Some of Monterey County’s most interesting restaurants (Big Sur Bakery, Nepenthe, Sierra Mar, Deetjen’s) are in the big south. Newest to the scene is the Big Sur Smokehouse, an upscale barbecue joint in a restored 1867 Post family homestead along Highway 1 near the entrance to Ventana Big Sur.

Smoke began to rise here on July 4, and for once this wasn’t a horrible sight for Big Sur. The charming red house that dates back to the 1860s has been completely restored, although fans of classic American barbecue should not expect plastic trays, slices of white bread and sawdust on the floor.

It’s a scant nod to the classic roadhouse, what the website (www.bigsursmokehouse.com) calls “a classic barbecue joint with a California twist … smokehouse dining in a comfortable setting — a place to rest and recharge on your drive along the coast.”

But it’s a new era. I accept that. This smokehouse has margaritas spiked with Pierre Ferrand Dry Curaçao and hibiscus tea. They have both beer and wine on draft, along with canned cocktails from San Diego-based Cutwater Spirits. They make their own pickles and sweet hand pies, and dispense their own soda.

The building is (thankfully) unassuming and quaint. There’s little signage because the red house pops off the landscape, and the outdoor picnic tables help create an inviting roadside respite.

Big Sur Smokehouse is open Wednesday through Sunday from 11 a.m. to 9 p.m.

COAST Big Sur

This architectural landmark punctuated by three enormous water tanks fashioned from 2,000-year-old redwood slabs (and houses Big Sur Coast Gallery) reopened in May under new ownership.

Above the gallery is a rooftop terrace with a casual café offering panoramic views of the coastline. Part-time Big Sur residents Peter and Merle Mullin bought the property in 2016 but saw plans stalled by landslides and road closures.

Eventually, the couple hired chef Nick Balla, who worked at several notable San Francisco eateries, including Bar Tartine and Smokebread.

The cafe offers fresh-baked breads, soups, snacks, dips, local beer and wine and Verve coffee. A recent social media post boasted about a banana-bread muffin with chocolate ganache, caramelized banana and cocoa nibs.

Mercado Sagrado Pop-up

An intriguing new restaurant-retail concept spent June “in residency” at the remodeled Village Shops next to the Big Sur River Inn.

Owner Patrick Orosco — the man behind the novel Independent Marketplace in Sand City several years ago — brought the celebration of music, food and creative/healing arts to Big Sur following its popular run in Los Angeles. Orosco envisions this vibe returning to the Village Shops as he works to restore the property.

“The danger of this situation can no longer be ignored by anyone who cares about Big Sur; it is now a crisis,” she wrote. “The cause — whether it is overpopulation, over-tourism, overuse, over-advertising, social media, or all of it — no longer matters. It is a danger to the health and safety of all residents and visitors.”

So what should locals do? Do we pretend Big Sur only exists for the Monterey 5? Do we boycott HBO? Do we push for better public transit? Do we yell and scream, or stay as composed as a kale salad?

Not sure. For now, though, I say we get in the car and drive south to enjoy a hike or a meal in union with our neighbors.